The Wind Home
by PanchitaRoyal
Summary: ***major spoilers if you haven't read the latest book!*** Set one year after Kingdom of Ash. Manon and Dorian have met in the middle. But who will be the first to cross the line? And once the line is crossed, what's next for the King of Adarlan and the High Queen of the Witch Kingdom? Last chapter up. Please read & Review!
1. Chapter 1

***major spoilers if you haven't read the latest book!*** Set one year after Kingdom of Ash. Manon and Dorian have met in the middle. But who will be the first to cross the line? A sweet, one-shot aimed to answer this question. Please know there is sexual content in this story, and please, if you have not read the last book, please know this has major spoilers!

* * *

The first time she'd made the sweep around the castle, many started screaming and shouting as they saw her atop Abraxos. She didn't blame them, knowing how thoroughly Rifthold had been sacked by the Ironteeth just months before.

Now, when she came around, and the boom of Abraxos wings was heard circling above the stone palace, she only received solemn nods from guards posted in all the entrances, including the large balcony she uses to land. Already the city looked to be recovering, the castle itself almost back to its former state…before the Ironteeth attack…before the glass castle atop.

Before Morath.

As soon as she landed, there was a steward waiting nearby to take Abraxos to be cleaned and fed. Abraxos didn't even look her way as he was led by the young steward. Manon resisted the urge to arch a brow, but knew he was well taken care of, that he'd be fed his favorite treats. He would be spoiled and clearly, Abraxos enjoyed it.

Not sparing another thought for her most loyal companion, Manon went inside the castle itself, nodding stiffly as some of the palace emissaries and courtiers bowed to her as she went.

Her arrival should be a surprise to those within the palace. No one knew when she'd appear because she never sent word before doing so. Today was no different, and yet no one looked or seemed surprised.

Especially the young King of Adarlan as he smoothly made his way down the corridor from the opposite end, with no one by his side. He looked elegant in his dark pants and jacket, both lined with green stitching, the white shirt underneath unbuttoned at the top, revealing some of his golden skin, exposing that thin line around his neck…

His turquoise eyes never left hers as they met in the middle, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Hello witchling." He almost purred the words, and she knew he was happy to see her. His eyes gleamed with amusement, but she wasn't sure why.

"I had some business with the rukhin." She answered the unasked question, guessing that's why Dorian smiled, knowing she had a poor excuse for being back.

"I'm always happy when you have business with the rukhin." He didn't dare take that extra step towards her, the one that would close the gap between them. Manon didn't move either, understanding his amusement now.

She was becoming predictable. No one looked surprised at her arrival today because they weren't. It'd been exactly a month since her last visit. And two months before her next to last.

Manon frowned slightly but didn't bother saying anything as she moved past the king. Towards his room…his tower. Where she slept when she came to Rifthold, to visit Dorian.

Manon didn't know if she liked this yet. If she could get used to being _expected_.

* * *

Dorian didn't say anything as he followed after her, his hands clasped behind his back.

They'd been at this for a year now, though for the first six months, she only came twice. But now she came quite predictably, towards the end of each month. He followed after her as she made her way up the stairs to his room and wasn't at all surprised at how she pinned him against the door as soon as he'd closed it behind him.

Their lips met and soon it was him pinning the witch against the door, taking hold of her wrists and lifting them, holding them over her head.

A moan escaped her and she pushed against the door with her immortal strength and pushed him until the back of his leg hit the edge of the bed.

Gods, she tasted divine.

They tumbled onto the bed in a heap of limps and kisses, and Dorian couldn't help the smile which grazed his lips. Manon pulled away, her hand still at the button of his pants.

"What?" There was an edge to her voice, and he knew she didn't appreciate his smiling.

"I missed you, too." He smirked, knowing it would probably piss her off more, but he couldn't help it. His hand didn't stop stroking her side from under her shirt and the fact that she didn't slap it away was all the indication he needed, despite how she rolled her eyes at him. He pounced her and soon their clothes and boots were off and Dorian was inside of her.

Her moans were exquisite, her moon-white hair fanning his pillow, eyes half drawn, her hips moving with him, urging him to go faster. Dorian kept a slower pace though, before bending his head to the crook of her neck, lightly tracing kisses, nibbling her skin. Manon did not complain, did not resist his touches along her skin, his nearly paused pace as his hand squeezed her upper thigh before guiding her hips slightly upwards so he could plunge himself deeper inside of her. Another exquisite moan filled his ears, her back arching, exposing her generous, perfect and peaked breasts towards him, so he could take one of them in his mouth and lightly graze his teeth over her sensitive nipple.

Her breath caught and he knew she was oh-so-close…

He kissed her deeply, her hands coming around his back, pressing him closer to her as he continued to slowly devour her mouth while he buried himself inside of her.

He didn't stop kissing her, not as she tumbled over the edge of her pleasure, as her hips buckled beneath him, as her breath passed from her to him. He pulled away from his kiss but not from her…he wasn't done yet.

* * *

She'd come because she needed to take the edge off. She'd come because she could always count on Dorian to provide what she needed, when she needed it…how she needed it.

What she didn't except was how much she wanted this. How much she wanted him buried inside of her like this, setting the pace, taking charge. His thrusts were agonizingly slow, but they seemed to reach her very soul, and so she didn't protest. She couldn't, especially as she found herself reaching her climax so quickly.

He then flipped her over, on her belly, and was once again inside of her, except this time, from behind. This was new territory for them and at first, she wasn't sure if she could enjoy it…that is, until he lifted her hips upward just so, so she was on her knees, and had her moaning as he thrusts into her. Manon clutched the fabric of the sheets, her hands fisting, her toes curling…

One of his hands hooked around her lower belly, past the permanent scar, until it found the apex of her womanhood. Manon surrendered to the pleasure, to the painful pleasure of having the King of Adarlan take her as he willed, and didn't hold back her moans nor her iron nails as they dug into the sheets and pillows and she found the ecstasy of her new orgasm.

This time, the King came with her.

* * *

The lay next to each other, naked. He wasn't entirely holding her but his hand continued to make smooth, soothing strokes up and down her arm. He was half turned towards her while she lay on her back, staring at the beamed ceiling. She knew his gaze was on her face, knew the look he held in his eyes. Manon turned towards him, though, just because she couldn't keep herself from looking.

His turquoise eyes met hers, his face exactly as she knew it would be. Thoughtful, pensive… _wanting._

Manon ran a hand through his soft, dark hair. Such a simple thing to do but oh-so intimate. He knew it, too, and didn't hesitate as he caught her hand with his lips and kissed it. A small smile grazed her lips and she tried to look away before he caught it.

He saw, though. But he didn't comment on it.

He wouldn't cross that invisible line, she knew.

And Manon was no longer sure why.

* * *

Dorian knew that if he pressed something more formal between them, Manon would not object. And yet, he didn't want to push it, push _her_. What they'd just done bordered on love making. And it wasn't the first time either.

The first time happened within a tent…just over a year ago now. When she'd offered more than he would have ever imagined, more than she was probably ready for, especially at that time…all because she was frightened of what could happen to him. She cared for him, then, and now… _well_ …

Dorian would never be the number one man in her life as he knew that title belonged to Abraxos. But he wouldn't mind being number two. He knew, though, that he threaded on melting ice, and so he didn't push it. At least, he wouldn't push it out right. He could be subtle, though. Manon spoke up before he could, though, and she seemed to stump right on that thinning ice.

"I find that I don't care about the ruhkin or their wyvern. I didn't even stop by before flying here."

He smirked before rolling onto his back, though his eyes remained on her.

"Don't complain when they turn out to be big, sub-trained wyvern babies." He couldn't help teasing, despite what she offered. Honesty.

He knew she didn't find any humor in his statement.

"You don't need an excuse to come here." Dorian said quietly then, her golden eyes boring into his with such intensity, he needed to remind himself to breathe.

"I could go to the Waste, visit you as well. No excuses needed as I want to see more of you." Dorian added. She arched a brow, turning from him so she could look to the ceiling again.

"I think _we_ would benefit from your experience." _We_ , meaning the Crochans and the Inronteeth… or Manon's way to disguise what she really wanted to say, that _she_ would benefit from his visits. "You know how to run a kingdom…how to negotiate with neighbors. I find that I want to kill Ansel quite often, and it's only a matter of time before one of the Inronteeth loses her temper and we find ourselves at war once again."

"I will be more than honored to be part of your council." Dorian offered with a small smile, knowing that even now she was still coming up with excuses.

"I don't have a…council. It would just be you." She clarified, her eyes once again falling to his. A smile crept into his face, one he knew drove her crazy.

"All the better." He couldn't help the deep of his voice, how his heart pounded against his chest.

"So, you would come here once a month and I would go there once a month?" Maybe he was pushing it, but he wanted to understand how she meant this to work. And that perhaps Yrene had been right, over a year ago, when she blatantly stated they should just get married so they didn't have to pretend.

"I'll be here a week and you'll be there a week." She offered, before she surprised him by finding his hand and interwinding their fingers.

"It's a sound plan. This will only keep us away from our individual courts for a week and we get to spend half the month together."

Dorian braved another intimate moment as he brushed his lips over the top of her shoulder, once again turning completely on his side. He took a deep breath, knowing there was one more question he needed to ask. One he hadn't braved himself to ask before.

He'd faced the Valg…he faced Morath and Meave, for gods sake! And yet this one question caught in his throat. He diverted, not able to face it yet, the invisible line keeping him back. So he went with whatever popped into his head first.

"I know witches have a hard time conceiving, but what happens if you miraculously become with child?"

It shouldn't be such a shocking question, especially considering they'd been having unprotected sex for over a year now. It was Manon's turn to arch an amused brow and she turned on her side as well, facing him completely.

"If it's a girl, I keep her."

"As heir, you mean." Dorian frowned, somewhat awed at how quickly she answered that question. Clearly, she'd thought about this.

"She would be High Queen of the Witch Kingdom."

" _And_ princess of Adarlan." Dorian added before daring to place a hand on her exposed hip, tracing light circles on her soft skin there.

"I don't know of many witches who have more than one child. And Ironteeth don't bear males." She clarified, her golden eyes dancing around his face.

"So, hypothetically, if we were to have a child, and it's a girl, then I wouldn't have an heir? She wouldn't be able to rule both kingdoms?" He asked, his fingers now sliding down to her lower back.

"If it's a boy, he will be your heir." She offered in turn, not answering his questions.

"And then, you wouldn't have an heir?" He asked, and couldn't help as he chuckled.

"I'm not sure how this is relevant." She answered, and he knew her patience was growing thin on the subject.

"I could always appoint my brother's children as heir. Or perhaps Chaol's and Yrene's son. I wouldn't mind one bit having him succeed me."

Dorian didn't know how true his words were until he said them. He could live with that, he knew.

"You might very well live longer than any of Chaol's children. Your magic is powerful…I don't think you will age like mortal men." She'd thought of this too.

"Then his children's children can inherit." Dorian was quick to say.

He paused then, his hand no longer drawing circles around her back.

"What will you call me, when I'm in your keep, in the Wastes?"

And there it was…the invisible line.

 _Will you call me lover? Consort? Husband?_

"King of Adarlan." Manon didn't bat an eye as she said this.

Dorian smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

* * *

Manon hadn't been sure where the conversation was heading. All this talk of heirs and what-ifs…things she had already thought about, it seems, as she answered his questions without a second thought.

And then he asked what she will call him.

She answered without a second thought, but knew that's not what he meant. Manon knew it, but couldn't bring herself to say what she really felt. Mostly, because she was still unsure.

Not of what she felt…but on how to say it.

"I have to go check on Abraxos." It was the only excuse she could think off to change the subject.

"He's fine." Dorian insisted, his voice sensual as he began to caress her skin again. Before long, they were kissing, the princeling ready for her once more. This time, thought, she set the pace and the rhythm, which to her surprise, she kept on the slower side…taking her time as she rode him, his hands roaming up and down her stomach, breasts, her sides…she rolled her head back as both his hands cupped her breasts, lightly tracing circles around her hardened nipples before he applied pressure down her sides as his hands moved to her hips, helping her move along…keeping her paused pace but helping her guide her strokes.

It didn't take long for her to find her release.

Manon couldn't think clearly as he laid her on the bed and continued thrusting until he found his own climax, collapsing on top of her not long after. They stayed like that for some time, Dorian draping her body with his, Manon still panting beneath him. He kissed her one final time before rolling off her and onto his back, clearly exhausted.

With a small sigh, Manon rolled off the bed and began dressing, ignoring as the King of Adarlan stared at her through half drawn eyes. He smirked but didn't say anything until she was by the door.

"That's my shirt, witchling."

Manon paused by the door, arching a brow. She didn't bother looking down to see if what he said was true.

"I know." Is all she said as she left the room to go find Abraxos.

* * *

A monument worthy of the Thirteen stood finished on the large square, where she could appreciate it from high above the castle, leaning on the ledge of the large balcony. Twelve statues made of iron, with wyvern wings wrapped around near replicas of her fallen sisters.

Manon knew what they meant to her before their sacrifice. She'd realized, through her twelve sisters, because that's what they truly were to her,…sisters… she learned the true meaning of love. Unconditional love. She hadn't known what the word meant until then. Until she chose to forfeit her own life to save Asterin, to fight her grandmother, to give them all a better world. To bring them home. She allied herself with the young, untried Queen of Terrasen, managed to convince the Crochan to join her…convinced Petrah and other Inronteeths to rebel against all they've ever known. They all joined her in battle.

Manon did this to save _them_.

Instead, they saved _her_. And the entire world.

And now they were to be celebrated in all of Erilea. From Terrasen to Adarlan, even in Eyllwe and Antica…monuments had been erected to commemorate their sacrifice. It didn't dull the ache in her chest. Of having to forge a new Kingdom without them…not having their wisdom, their insights.

Manon often found herself looking for her second and instead came face to face with Petrah or Bronwen. They were good witches, both of them. And she supposed they were now her…companions? She wasn't sure what to call them, or her great-grandmother, Glennis. They didn't feel like her family, but perhaps, with time, they would be. For once, Manon did not wince at the thought, but simply settled for giving herself time to adjust.

All of this was new to her. Being without the Thirteen, her relationship with Glennis, Petrah an Bronwen, her title as the High-Queen of the Crochan and Ironteeth...all of it was new and somewhat startling. Rebuilding the Waste, the Witch Kingdom, had not been easy. It'd taken more patience and diplomacy than she was accustomed to, not able to use her iron teeth and nails. But it was a new world, a _better_ one.

Paved by her Thirteen, by her parents before them…by her half-sister, who went to find her and died at her hands.

 _Live._ Asterin had said. The word echoed in her mind as she looked at the monument.

It wasn't enough to simply breathe, to simply live through half-lit eyes. No, Manon realized what the Thirneen wanted for her was to live _and_ thrive. To love _and_ feel. To allow herself to be happy. To fly high…ride the winds and soar above the sky. She would do that, for her sisters. For her Thirteen.

And suddenly, just like that, Manon knew what needed to be done. And she pushed off the balcony, determination in her eyes.

* * *

Yrene had the baby swaddle in her chest, a fabric wrapped around her body in such a way were she could move around freely without disturbing the sleeping youngling.

Manon was not seeking her out, but since she past the healer's working quarters and caught the radiant woman bouncing around form side to side, she felt inclined to at least say hello. Yrene was working on setting up this room as a classroom for her students. She'd made a call to all those across the continent who wanted to receive training in medicine and healing, especially those who held magical powers. Many had come, including witches, so much so she'd needed to open up more rooms.

She'd greeted Manon with a small hug, careful not to squish the baby between them, and quickly employed her to move around some of the larger tables to the far side of the room. Manon did as she was asked, somewhat amused by the young and vibrant healer who clearly didn't care for rank or position.

"I'm so glad you're here, Manon. And not just for helping me with the tables. But Chaol wanted me to tell you not to keep Dorian up too late tonight. He has an important meeting tomorrow."

Yrene shrugged and made an apologetic face as she said this.

Manon arched an amused brow, before asking.

"What meeting?"

"You know, with the Lords of Adarlan. There's some resistance with how Dorian wants to use the coffers, to rebuild and for his new alliance with Eyllwe. He wants to expand trade and make new alliances that are not derived of fear. We cannot forget, it was Adarlan who assisted Erawan all these years, and there's also the matter of the Lords of Fenharrow…" Yrene's voice trailed off, as though the pain of the war and the cost still weight heavily on her. On them all.

"He is their King. They must do as he says." Manon offered, unsure why Dorian would even need their permission or good standing. He could crush them with his magic without a second thought.

"Yes, well…I suppose he would like for them to agree. Dorian is untried as a King, and perhaps there are some Lords who see an opportunity in this." Yrene shrugged again, clearly not too familiar with the politics of it besides what her husband most likely shared with her.

Manon nodded in understanding.

"I will not promise that he won't be up too late. But I promise he'll be there." Manon smirked again, especially as Yrene smiled widely before turning to her wakening youngling. She promptly lifted him from the swaddle as she sat on one of the chairs, making quick work of her gown to have the child attach to her breast. Manon frowned, not sure how she felt at watching the woman feeding her youngling so uncaringly.

"It's normal for a mother to feed her child this way." Yrene explained, perhaps catching a glimpse of her frown.

Manon nodded once. The first time she saw the youngling she thought him to be the ugliest thing she'd ever seen. Now, with a tuff of honey-gold hair on its head and some color to his skin, the baby looked less frightening. In fact, if Manon was honest with herself, she'd say the baby looked…adorable.

"I must go." She said simply before nodding to Yrene. She wore a knowing smile, as thought she'd caught Manon admiring her baby.

"Next time you're here, you'll get to hold him." Yerene declared, making Manon smile softly despite herself.

"Next time." She agreed and left out the door.

* * *

"I'm going to ask Manon to be there tomorrow." Dorian said, not looking to Chaol as he offered this information. He was currently patting Abraxos on the head, the wyvern nuzzling his large head in his hand. Dorian smiled, although he knew Chaol wasn't.

"You think that's wise? They might take her presence there as an attempt at intimidation." In other words, Chaol saw this to be unwise as the Lords would definitely see her presence there as an attempt at intimidating them to agree with Dorian's plans.

"With her charm? Nonsense." Dorian flashed Chaol as smile, and knew his friend was not impressed with his humor.

"Look, the Lords have to get used to her presence here. She's the High Queen of the Witch Kingdom, and an ally to Adarlan…"

"…and the King's girlfriend." Chaol finished for Dorian, raising an unimpressed brow.

"I'm not sure she'd appreciate being called my girlfriend." He continued, without skipping a beat. "Now that we're on the subject…what title would you give her?" Dorian asked his friend, hoping Chaol had a better answer for this than himself.

"Title?" Chaol looked confused as he crossed his arms, his honey-brown eyes boring into his with a fierce scrutiny Dorian had come to fear from his right-hand man. He scratched the back of his head with the hand not petting Abraxos and offered a sheepish grin.

"Don't worry about it." Dorian decided it was best to drop the subject or else Chaol might sense what he truly wanted to do.

"If you're thinking about marrying her…" His friend trailed off as he took a step closer to Dorian, eyeing him wearily.

"…then she'd be the High Queen of the Witch Kingdom and Queen Consort to Adarlan." There was a smirk on Chaol's face, a knowing a smile creeping up on his lips before his friend…his brother….placed a strong hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

"She'd be damn lucky, too." He offered softly, their eyes locking then. Dorian nodded once with a smile, knowing he had his friend's approval. It meant the world to him, he realized, as they shared another smile between them.

They stayed like this for some time, until Manon cleared her throat and interrupted them.

Dorian and Chaol turned to find Manon with both her hands on her hips, eyeing them curiously, her bright, gold eyes gleaming. Her moon-white hair fell around her shoulders in soft waves and Dorian found himself unable to breathe.

"Well then. I will see you tomorrow, bright an early." Chaol gave Dorian a pointed look before turning to leave, pausing briefly next to Manon, bowing his head just so.

"Your Majesty." There was a flicker of amusement on Manon's face but she made a great show of keeping her expression as neutral as possible. She nodded to Chaol before he continued onwards, leaving them alone with Abraxos.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted your little moment." Manon still held amusement in her voice as she came next to him, her wyvern immediately turning towards her and away from him as Abraxos expected her to pet him as well. Manon's eyes gleamed with happiness as her attention turned to Abraxos. There was so much love in her eyes…

"You want me to leave you two alone?" He asked in jest, pocking fun back at her.

She only arched a brow as a response, and otherwise ignored him as she continued to pet and nuzzle Abraxos. They stayed silent for some time, as the both ran their hands through the wyvern's leathery skin, Dorian's eyes never leaving Manon's face.

"I was asked not to keep you up too late tonight." Manon finally spoke. There was amusement in her voice as her eyes settled on him.

They still shone with love.

"Well, if you plan to leave tomorrow, then I will have no choice but to stay up all night with you. If you decide to stay longer, then I might get some good rest tonight, knowing I can take my fill tomorrow instead."

There was no way Dorian would not take advantage of her being there, to be with her. Apart from sex, petting Abraxos together was the second most intimate thing they've ever shared. He looked forward to tangling with her some more on his bed, of running his hands through her silver locks…caressing her soft skin…kissing those beautiful lips. Dorian resisted the urge to swallow.

"Besides, I'd like for you to be there tomorrow, in the meeting." He offered, still holding her gaze.

"Wouldn't the Lords find that somewhat intimidating?" Manon didn't flinch nor bat an eye as she asked, clearly not offended by the reaction she'd get from the Lords. She walked with death and darkness at her side…proudly.

"Maybe, or maybe they'll finally understand that change has happened and that it's no longer an option to look the other way. We are building a better world, and it won't be one of exclusion and isolation for Adarlan. I will not have them pretend our role in the war…how Adarlan was a puppet to Morath and Erawan…I will not pretend it didn't happen. But I will not give up on the good people of Adarlan, at all those rebuilding…all those who gave their lives to defend our world." His eyes drifted from Manon, looking over the balcony to the city below. _His_ city. His home…

He looked back to her again, their eyes locking and Manon simply nodded once in agreement.

"We're powerful allies, you and I." Dorian's voice dropped as he spoke, the invisible line between them appearing once more. Would he cross it now? Abraxos huffed his head between them before moving back to curl up for a nap, as though leaving them, giving them privacy to talk.

"Are we, now?" Manon asked smoothly.

Dorian couldn't help as he smiled, especially as the last rays of the dying sun caught in Manon's golden eyes, filling them with light so bright he actually gasped. Before he could talk himself out what he meant to do, he walked right up to her, forcing her to look up at him to meet his stare.

"Yes, we are. I thought maybe we make it official with a small affair. Nothing big. Just close friends and family."

"Make what official?" Her voice sounded unimpressed, but he could tell her breathing caught in her chest, her brows lightly pulling towards each other.

"You and me. Our _alliance_." _Our marriage_. He wanted to say, but kept to the same line of thought she'd offered him just over a year ago…inside that tent within the Crochan camp. Back to the last time he ever saw the Thirteen together.

"I'm thinking Glennis, of course, Petrah and Bronwen, Chaol and Yrene…" He counted the guests with his fingers, ignoring as her brow raised in question.

"I thought you said I'd never want to be shackled to a man in such a way." They stood so close, her breath caressed his face as she spoke. Dorian brought his hands to her upper arms, bracing her there in front of him.

Manon spoke truthfully, and this particular point struck him above all others. Would he be shackling her? Would it truly be a sacrifice for her to be his wife?

"I think it's fair to say things have changed." He settled for saying, praying to the non-existing gods for this to be true.

Manon stared into his eyes, her face revealing nothing of what she felt at the moment. Dorian's heart beat so hard and fast within his chest, he knew she could hear it. So he lay himself bare. He allowed his emotions to show…his fears of what he asked her for, fear of her refusal, to be seen as he stared right into her eyes.

Manon opened her mouth to speak but then paused.

* * *

She meant to speak, but wasn't sure what she'd say.

The first time she'd suggested this… _alliance_ …it hadn't stopped Dorian from leaving, from realizing her fears as he set out for Morath. She hadn't known how to voice what she felt for him, just how _attached_ she truly was.

Now, things had changed. And yet, somehow, they hadn't. It was still difficult to speak, to say what she felt. He wanted to marry her, and she could see it in his eyes…hear as his strong heart thundered in his chest.

 _What do I want?_ Manon asked herself. She was already willing to give him a child, children if she could…she was willing to fly back and forth…

"What would change?" She asked, needing to understand better. His face remained the same, but his eyes gleamed with hope. He knew she was considering his proposal.

"Not much. We would do as you said earlier, split our time between the kingdoms."

"But we would rule our kingdoms together?" She frowned, not sure how this would work.

"You'd be the High Queen of the Witch Kingdom and Queen Consort to Adarlan."

Manon couldn't help as she smirked at the terribly long title.

"That's a mouthful…" She breathed, her smile catching on Dorian's face.

"Longer than Aelin's." Dorian winked at her, as though to consider it.

"We wouldn't have to invite her and her entire, ridiculous court?" They were all clowns, especially at parties. Manon still regretted very much having gone to Elide's wedding not half a year ago.

"Gods no." He breathed, a long smile grazing his face, knowing he was close to her acceptance.

"And what would you be?" She asked, perhaps to understand the final piece of it.

"King of Adarlan. I don't have to hold an official position in the Witch Kingdom, unless you want me to." _I'll do anything you ask me to_ , his eyes practically sang to her.

Manon took in a deep, long breath. She thought of Asterin and the Thirteen…her words, their sacrifice.

 _Live._ The words echoed in her mind.

A phantom wind caressed her face then, and she knew it didn't come from Dorian's magic…even Abraxos stirred, his head perking to the side as though he could sense _them_. Manon closed her eyes as the wind swept through her, blowing her locks back.

"You shall be High King of the Witch Kingdom."

Dorian nodded, accepting, eyes gleaming with something so strange and foreign to her, she almost didn't recognize it.

 _Live._ The wind whispered… _Love, Manon…_ it said, and then it was gone.

A tear stained her cheek and Dorian kissed it away before capturing her lips. Their kiss lasted an eternity, as she curled her hands around his neck, as he held her waist with his strong grip. They didn't stop kissing until Abraxos nudged them, as if telling them to go away.

"Fine, we'll get a room." Dorian chuckled as he led Manon towards his room as he interwind their fingers together. Manon didn't protest, in fact, she leaned closer to him

* * *

The event ended up having slightly more than five people, as Manon decided to invite Elide at the very last minute, who brought her darkness prone husband along with her. Dorian had suggested that perhaps inviting Ansel would be a great idea, as they were still trying to lock down negotiations concerning the Waste. It sort of tumbled out of their hands from there, especially as Aelin got wind of it, most likely through Elide or Lysandra, whom Manon decided to also invite at the very last minute, as she had fought with her as a wyvern during the war. Of course, her husband would be coming along too…and so it went, until it was not a small affair at all.

They both wore specially made riding leathers with gold finishes. Manon wore her crown of light, and Dorian wore his father's favorite crown. Her sword belt held Wind-Cleaver, Dorian's held Damaris. And they married on the large balcony which overlooked the city below…where Manon could see the Thirteen, where Abraxos could stand next to her as she made her vows. Where the Crochans and the Inronteeth could be witness as they flew their brooms and wyverns from above. Even some of the ruhkin circled above them.

Chaol and Yrene were the only two others standing with them as Glennis officiated the ceremony….

There was a great feast in the large hall inside the castle, but Manon and Dorian only stayed briefly before sneaking off, back to the balcony where Abraxos waited for them. They quickly got on the saddle, Dorian behind her as he wrapped his arms around her waist and they were soon off, flying towards the sunset.

Flying nowhere in particular but somehow knowing they went home.

* * *

Thank you for reading! Reviews are more than welcome! :)


	2. Chapter 2

I just couldn't leave it in just the first part so I decided to make this a three part story. I need more closure! ;)

Once again, this story contains mature sexual scenes and spoilers from Kingdom of Ash. Thank you for reading, feel free to review!

* * *

Manon's head rolled back, eyes closed as the princeling continued to torture her with his hands…phantom and real…massaged her breasts, her inner thighs, all the while his tongue assaulted her very essence, lapping, stroking,…grazing his teeth over the very sensitive mound.

Maddening. Manon felt as though she'd go mad if he continued teasing her like this, especially as he would stop right before she reached her zenith. He did so once again, stopping just as her breathing became labored and her hips began to follow a rhythm of their own.

"Dorian!" She yelled in anguish and had to resist the urge of sliding her iron nails into place and slicing him into ribbons.

"Not yet, my love." He whispered as he blew cool air into her core, sending shivers down her spine, all her hairs standing on end, her nipples hardening to the point they hurt.

"Does the Witch Kingdom concede?" He asked in a deep, husky voice, which made her shiver.

" _Never_." She regretted her answer immediately as phantom hands caressed up her thighs and began stroking the spot where his mouth had previously been. She moaned loudly before her cries turned into a whimper. She couldn't move, her hands pinned over her head by his phantom hands, while another set of phantom hands continued to massage her breasts, flickering her nipples every so often. Then his attention returned to her core…with his tongue.

Manon surrendered.

"Please, end it!" She almost screamed, unable to fight her desperate need for release. He tortured her, getting her close but no further than a peek over the abys.

"Concede, witchling. I want to hear you say it." His voice, again…guttural, menacing…enjoying as he made her beg.

"I concede!" She almost screamed as his phantom hands paused again, as he himself hovered over her womanhood, biting his lower lip as he smirked. He had her right where he wanted her…begging for mercy.

"Good, witchling." He purred as he draped her body with his, purposely taking his time as his skin rubbed against hers. He paused at her breasts and took each one into his mouth before his tongue flickered to her neck and licked its way up to her earlobe, which he gently grazed between his teeth.

Manon was panting, still unable to move. She swore to the Mother above, she'd make him pay for this. As soon as he released her…oh, how she'll make him pay.

Dorian didn't bother spreading her thighs apart with a gentle hand. Instead, he used one of his knees to part her leg rather brashly and he settled himself between her legs.

"It's the last time I will have you embarrass me like that." He scolded before slowly…so gods-damn slowly…maneuvering his hips so his erection was finally touching her wet entrance.

"I swear to the Mother above, Dorian…." Manon began, but he shut her up as his lips captured hers before he plunged himself inside of her. Her moan broke against his lips and he stole the breath from her as he continued to kiss her without reprieve.

His phantom hands finally let go of hers, and she was able to wrap her arms around his back and up his neck until she could dig one of her hands in his dark hair. He chuckled as he continued to thrust inside of her, pulling apart from their kiss so he could stare at her, eyes dancing with mischief.

"That's what you get for making me look bad in front of others." He thrust hard against her and Manon couldn't care less how bad she made him look. All she'd done was disagree with him…in front of his entire council of Lords. He'd torture her for it and now she was finally getting what she wanted. In one swift movement, he had them rolling on the bed so she was now on top, so she could sway and ride him to her hearts content. He still held his smirk as he placed both of his hands behind his head.

"Prick." She muttered, but didn't stop and instead continued to sway over him before bucking her hips up and down. He grunted then, making her smirk as his eyes glazed over with pleasure. Manon had half the mind of making him suffer but decided she needed her release more than she needed revenge. She'd make him pay another day.

His hands came to rest at her hips, helping her with her movements as he thrust upwards to meet her as she came down over his shaft, pushing him further inside of her. Manon moaned as he did, and then he sat up so she could wrap her legs around his torso. His hands continued to push down at her hips as she used her legs to push further inside of him. Her head tipped back and he kissed her neck…

And then it came, her release finally washing over her as her hips buckled and her lips parted with a gasp. Dorian had to help her as he continued to push down on her hips so she could enjoy the entire wave of her pleasure. He then flipped them over so he was over her again, until he found his release not five strokes later.

After a couple of gaping minutes, he rolled over onto his back, bringing her with him so she lay over his naked chest. Cuddling after sex was something Manon had to get used to, but by now she welcomed the tender moments and caresses that came after their coupling. Before, Dorian was cautious about it, only touching her hip or simply caressing her shoulder…stealing a kiss there. Now…now he openly offered affection, even in front of others. At first, she wasn't sure how she felt bout it…being kissed on the cheek in greeting or having him wrap an arm around her shoulder.

Now, six months after their _alliance_ , she'd grown used to it.

Sex between them had always been good, great even,…and easy. There had never been any pretending between them, any reserves. And in most ways, this hadn't changed except now he'd often refer to it as love making. He also called her 'my love' and greeted her with a gleam in his eyes, especially as they spent half the month apart.

"Must you leave tomorrow?" He asked as his hand ran through her moon-white hair, lightly tugging at the strands.

"Yes." Manon wasn't sure why he asked, as he knew the answer already. Perhaps her tone suggested this as he spoke again.

"Do I sound a bit like a love-sick puppy? I apologize…" He chuckled as he shifted so he could look down to her face.

"Yes. No wonder you get along great with the Corchans. Glennis especially, she loves having you around." Manon allowed a smile to graze her lips as her fingers drew circles on his hairless chest. It always surprised her how fit he was, how he kept his body toned despite very little exercise. Perhaps he'd been practicing more with Chaol as his abs seemed to bulge more than ever before. His lips grazed the top of her head before he spoke again.

"Tell me about them." His voice was soft, almost a whisper as he said this. Them…the Thirteen. It wasn't the first time he asked her about them, and the thought alone brought a pang to her chest.

"Vesta had a small crush on you." Manon offered, her eyes pulling up to his face. His expression suggested he knew this as did the sadness in his eyes.

"She would have never acted on it, though. Never." Manon offered as she rested her chin just below one of his pecks. His hand continued to run through her hair, lightly scratching at the scalp.

"Edda and Briar…even I couldn't sense them at times. They hardly ever spoke, and yet…there was an ease about them. I spent countless hours with them without uttering a single word and felt nothing but peace and quiet." It was more than she'd been able to offer before, without feeling the hole in her chest open up to swallow her whole.

"Sometimes I wonder if perhaps they…" She paused, trying to find her words as her fingers continued their soft circles over Dorian's skin. "…if they saw the future. If they could see how things would be better with their sacrifice. Like they could see _this_." She pressed a flat hand on his skin so he knew she referred to him. To this, what they had.

"Perhaps they simply hoped for it." Dorian offered.

Manon stayed silent then, as the words echoed in her mind.

* * *

"Any words from the queen?" Chaol asked casually as he continued to go through a seemingly routine list of things that needed to be accomplished to run a kingdom.

"Nope." Dorian answered simply as he hefted through some documents, trying to find the one he needed.

"Should we, perhaps, start worrying?" Chaol's tone changed then to a more inquisitive one, probably not understanding why Dorian was so calm about this.

"Manon left a note and said she'd be back. So, she'll be back."

"That was three months ago. We haven't heard anything from her in three months…" Chaol was worried, and he was finally letting it show.

"She's a witch… _the_ witch. If she's gone it's because she wants to be and not because she's in any danger." Dorian eyed his friend with amusement, finding his worrying to be endearing.

"Are you really worried that much for my wife?" He asked, somewhat incredulous.

"Manon is not just your wife. She's the Queen Consort to Adarlan and, because of her absence, you've had to split your time between the two kingdoms. You're spread out thin. We don't know where she is or if she needs help…" He trailed off as he seemed to think better than to start down that road. Perhaps of having Dorian worry for her safety above all else.

"What would you have me do? Send a search party for her? I already sent letters to our allies around the continent. If any of them see her, they'll be sure to send word."

Dorian was already the subject of many jokes, he knew. Aelin had written back, but only one line;

 _Did you lose your wife so soon?_

He could read the laughter through the note and couldn't help as he smirked himself.

"I think she's just working through some things. Time is not the same for immortals as it is for us. Three months for her is nothing…" Or so Dorian hoped.

It nagged at him though, that Chaol worried for her. She'd even missed his son's first birthday not a month past, where Yrene especially felt disappointed she wasn't there.

"She's fine and she'll be back." Dorian stated with authority. And he wasn't sure if he said this for Chaol's sake or his own.

* * *

Petrah came for him in her wyvern, like she'd done the last three months, and flew him to the Witch Kingdom. The journey took just over two days, stopping one night at the Ferian Gap before continuing to the Waste. From overhead, Dorian could appreciate how the land was already changing so much. How the curse had broken…and the land prospered from the witch's hands.

Holding court in the Witch Kingdom was as different as Manon and Dorian themselves. No one took notes, there was no consensus or even agreements half the time, and yet things got done nonetheless. Today they'd been joined by the Queen of the Wastes, who sat casually opposite of him on the large rectangular table.

"So…not back yet?" Ansel asked as soon as he walked in through the doors, eyeing him with amusement.

"If you don't see her, it's because she's not here." Dorian stated simply as he took his seat.

Soon, Bronwen and Petrah joined, followed by Glennis and they began their council meeting.

"The harvest this season will produce more…much more than we need." Glennis stated simply, her soft eyes looking around the table.

"Good. We could sell the excess for profit. The Mother knows we need some coin in our coffers." Petrah was quick to point out. Ansel shifted in her seat, a frown on her face.

"We all need some coin in our coffers, but might I remind you that my kingdom has provided quite a bit to yours, and we've yet to receive anything in return." Ansel pointed out, keeping any of her annoying rhetoric out of it.

"Are you suggesting we _give_ you some of the excess harvest?" Petrah asked, incredulous.

"More like repay." Now Ansel gleamed with mischief, her fingers drumming on the table.

"We could give the Wastes half of our excess harvest, as repayment for their help." Bronwen practically conceded, despite Petrah's frowns and glares.

"It's only fair." She muttered to Petrah, who seemed to think better of things and finally nodded.

"And the other half?" Ansel asked, probably curious.

"Some should go to Adarlan, I think." To Dorian's surprise, it was Petrah who said this.

"They've given plenty and taken very little." She offered as an explanation to her suggestion. Dorian smiled, appreciating the witch's words.

"Whatever should go to Adarlan will go to Eyllwe." Dorian finally spoke and the women all looked to him before providing soft nods.

"You would take nothing from the Witch Kingdom?" Glennis asked, eyeing him with a look of mixed bewilderment and understanding.

"I already have the most precious thing from the Witch Kingdome." He smirked as he said this, and could see as Ansel rolled her eyes and mutter something about being a 'foolish romantic'.

"Half of the excess will go to Ansel and the Wastes. A fourth of the excess will go to Eyllwe and the rest will be sold for profit. We will provide the transport to Eyllwe." Petrah stated, throwing in the transport as the payment Dorian didn't want to take from them. Everyone nodded in agreement, and Dorian simply held his smirk.

This was truly a better world.

* * *

The witches were more than used to him by now, even if Manon was currently 'away'. The Crochans were always friendliest to him, but they all kept a distance, not wanting to seem as too friendly or fond of the Adarlan King. As he bathed and changed into comfortable sleeping trousers, he thought of his current predicament.

He was in a castle filled with women…the only men around where Adarlan soldiers which Chaol insisted should be stationed at the witch castle, especially as he spent so much time there. The Hand of the King had been wise on who he sent…young guards, eager to prove themselves and with no wives back home. Of course, the witches indulged in this, as did the guards, and it was truly a good compromise for all.

It was a hot night, and Dorian didn't bother to cover himself as he drifted off to sleep. It was then, when he was already halfway through a dream, that soft, strong hands found his face. Long, iron nails grazed down his cheek, pulling him from his slumber to a state of half-consciousness.

"Hello princeling." Her voice was rasped, raw…and then her nails were gone and he could feel her hands traveling down his body, along his neck, then his chest, down the crest of his abs…further down below the band of his trousers.

"Is my witchling back?" Dorian managed to murmur, his sleepy eyes finally opening to take in her shape. With just the light of the moon pouring in from the window, he could make out the sliver of her hair flowing freely around her face and the molten of her golden eyes which seemed to shine brightly in the dark.

She was a revelation…basking in the moonlight and Dorian swore he'd never seen such beauty before in his life. His heart thundered against his chest and he was sure she could hear it.

Manon smirked as her hand found its way down the front of his pants and not so subtly, wrapped around his already awoken shaft. Their eyes met, as she began to stroke him swiftly, steadily…he groaned. Just seeing her made him excited, but her grasp, strong yet soft…careful…it had him breathing hard. Her thumb flickered over the sensitive head which had Dorian purring. He'd gotten up on his elbows, watching as she pleasured him with a bewitching smile on her face. And then she bent down so her rich, red lips kissed his engorged head, before her tongue…her devilish tongue made an appearance and licked the very essence of him.

"Gods above…" He murmured as his head rolled back, and he wasn't able to stay on his elbows, so he settled back down on the bed, especially as her lips and tongue took hold of him, while her steady hands continued to stroke his shaft. It was maddening.

"Manon Blackbeack…Havilliard…" He began to mumble her name incoherently, groaning and moaning as his demon wife continued to pleasure him. He was so close, and he wasn't sure she'd appreciate him exploding in her mouth, so he placed a hand on her shoulder, unable to speak.

"I want to taste you." She stated simply, blowing softly on his erection before her mouth returned to work. It didn't take long for him to lose it, spilling inside of her mouth, goosebumps ran up and down his body as the delightful pleasure took hold of him, heart pounding so hard he thought he might have a heart attack.

She didn't let go of him until he was done, until there was no more pleasure to be had…and yet he was still aroused, enlarged within her mouth.

Dorian laid unmoving, staring up at the ceiling above, chest heaving up and down.

"Nothing to say?" She asked as she settled down next to him, one elbow bent, propping her head on her hand as she stared at him, her other hand making light circles with her fingers on his chest.

"Welcome home." He finally breathed out before finding the strength to turn to her, finding her staring intently at him. Dorian hadn't seen his wife in months, he wasn't sure where she went and why. She'd told him noting, sent no word, and yet he knew she was safe, unharmed…and that she'd be back.

And there she was, staring at him with molten eyes.

He reached his fingers for her face, cupping her cheek. She turned into his touch, eyes lightly closing as he tenderly stroked her cheek with his thumb, then her lips.

"I missed you, wife." His voice dropped, almost rumbled as he said this. Her eyes opened then and she scooped closer so she could lay her head on his shoulder, and so he could wrap his arms around her.

* * *

"How many are with child?" Yrene asked as she moved some beakers from the table onto the shelves in the back. The room smelled of various essences, eucalyptus and thyme…even ginger.

"Three. Two Crochans and one Inronteeth." Yrene nodded before she walked back to stand in front of Manon.

"Crochans don't seem to have as much trouble breeding. It's really the Inronteeth I'm worried about. But I think I know what can be done…" She motioned for Manon to follow as she made her way to her desk, sitting behind it and motioning to the seat in front for her to sit.

"This was only done in extreme cases back in Antica, mostly because the child was breached and wouldn't turn during labor." Yrene explained as she showed Manon an inked notebook with notes.

"We would make an incision in the lower abdomen and take the child out that way. The mother would be under powerful sedatives…we did it successfully three times." Yerene further explained.

"Out of how many?" Manon asked, brows pulling together.

"Three out of five times. Once, the mother didn't make it, and the fifth time, the child didn't make it."

There were risks to this procedure, but there would be risks no matter what.

"Witches are stronger than mortals. And more resistant to sedatives." Manon stated but Yrene simply nodded as though she'd already thought of this.

"I think it's worth a try." Yrene smiled softly.

Manon couldn't help nodding in agreement.

"I will ask the Ironteeth if she would like to volunteer." Manon would not be forcing anyone into this, but she'd make the option available to the witches.

"Of course. I would recommend she come here, though, as all my supplies and assistants are here."

Manon nodded. They stayed silent for some time, as they each seemed to think about what this meant for the witches. What it meant for Manon personally. Before Yrene could say anything else, Manon spoke first.

"I'm sorry I missed the youngling's birthday."

Yeren smiled and waved a hand, as though dismissing the apology.

"No worries. There'll be many more birthdays to come."

Manon nodded and stood, meaning to get to the door before Yrene had a chance to speak again.

"Manon…" It seemed the young healer wouldn't be dancing around the subject as Manon had, though.

"If you're having trouble conceiving…there's something I could give you." She offered as she stood, shuffling her chair back as she came around the desk, pausing just a couple of steps behind her.

With a deep sigh, Manon turned to Yrene, eyeing the younger woman with more apprehension which was perhaps merited.

"All witches have problems conceiving." Manon stated flatly.

"But not all witches need an heir. Or two." Yrene was quick to say, a small smile turning her lips. Manon narrowed her eyes but conceded a nod to the healer, who wasted no time in looking behind her on one of the many shelves. She came back with a small pouch, which she surrendered to Manon in her hands.

"Add a couple of the leaves to your tea or milk, every day." Yerene instructed.

"Do I look like someone who drinks tea or milk?" Manon arched an amused brow, already finding the requirements to be torturous.

"You can have it with black tea." The healer offered with an amused smile of her own.

* * *

Manon was drinking tea.

Dorian wanted to ask, but decided against it, especially as Manon made a face after trying the hot liquid.

"Torture…" She grumbled under her breath before turning around and finding him standing there.

Today she wore her usual leather pants and a white shirt, but no vest and no jacket. Her hair was not braided, and so he knew she wasn't flying out yet. She'd been at the palace for over two weeks now, after they'd flown back together from the Witch Kingdome, and he didn't want to question her time in Adarlan, lest she think he was shooing her out. In reality, he never wanted her to leave, and he meant to go with her if she decided to fly back.

"Ansel told me about the agreement with the harvest." She spoke, perhaps to break the silence.

"And how did you find it?" He asked, curious as to what she thought.

"It is a good agreement." Manon grinned before taking another sip of her tea and then grimacing.

"You should add honey to the tea." Dorian stated as he went to look for honey on the table and bringing some in a spoon. She reluctantly allowed him to fix her tea but was clearly pleasantly surprised as she took another sip.

"Why didn't she just tell me to add this in the first place? I've been drinking this for days now…" She mumbled under her breath, making Dorian smile.

"Why _are_ you drinking tea?" He asked, curious now. He was sure Manon meant Yrene as the culprit of making her drink tea.

"Because I refuse to drink this with milk." She stated flatly before gulping down the rest of it, presumably just so she could be done with it.

"Drink what with milk?" Again, Dorian asked with amusement.

"Nothing…just some herbs." She waved a dismissive hand before she turned from him, finding a note on the desk more interesting. Dorian leaned back against the pole of the bed, crossing his arms. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to drop this subject or not, though she seemed intent in ignoring him.

"I heard the Ironteeth agreed to the birthing procedure Yrene suggested."

Manon stilled before turning back to look at Dorian. There was a flicker in her eyes, and he knew this was the subject she was avoiding.

"Yes, and she can still back out of it if she wants to. But knowing Jeziel, she won't. She's a strong Ironteeth, despite being Blueblood." She stated simply before adverting her eyes to the paper again.

"No doubt. It will be good, to find a way for the witches to give birth without losing the child or the mother."

Silence. Manon didn't even nod.

"I'm in no hurry." He simply stated, eyeing her as she pretended to ignore him.

"Mhmm." She continued to ignore him.

"Manon…" Dorian pushed off the side of the bed and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. He planted a kiss at the nook of her neck and waited until she placed the paper down, conceding a heavy sigh.

"I went to visit Elide, in Parranth." She admitted, and he suspected she was simply changing the subject, speaking to her secret time away. But what she said next surprised him.

"She had a difficult birth…she spent hours in labor. I don't know how she endured it, but with one final push…there she was. This tiny, _beautiful_ girl." Manon seemed lost in the memory, her hands shaking.

"She named her Asterin…Asterin Sorrel."

"It's a good name." Dorian offered, not letting go of her, his arms wrapped around her waist, caressing her sides, her stomach. Of course, he'd heard of the happy news from Perranth, but there had been no mention of his wife being there.

"Her brute of a husband…you should have seen how he held her. Like she was the most precious thing in the world…as though a man dying of thirst found the last drop of water left in all the lands." Manon turned in his arms, then, so she could face him, her hands wrapping around his neck, her fingers softly digging into his hair.

"He walked with darkness…with Hellas, no less, and there was nothing but endless love in his eyes as he beheld his daughter and wife." Her gold eyes met his and Dorian was unable to blink. He could do nothing but stare at her, at the intensity of her eyes, her words. His heart thrummed within his chest.

"I _want_ a child." Her words echoed in his mind, down to his thundering heart.

Dorian nodded, understanding her need, why she wanted this. She was not born evil…not born a demon witch. She was made into one by her grandmother, and now she was free of that…of the shackles of her past. If someone like Lorcan could learn to love…could deserve happiness, then she could too. He didn't know what he could say, or should say, so he simply stared into her eyes, holding her gaze, his hands wrapped around her.

"Would you mind this? Having a child?" She asked, perhaps concern as he'd stated he was in no hurry.

"Manon…I would be more than happy for us to have a child. But just know that neither my happiness nor my love for you depend on it." He wanted to be clear on this, so she knew he'd never recent her if they couldn't conceive.

"You didn't care that I left so long?" She asked, perhaps curious on this point, now that the subject had come up.

"I missed you. A lot." He offered a smirk before grazing his lips over hers.

"But I don't ever want you to feel entrapped. I would have preferred to know where you were, just so Chaol wouldn't fret about it so much, but I understand. _I understand_." He repeated, because he truly did. There would be no shackles for her, he'd promised her.

"Dorian…" She began to speak but he knew she couldn't say what she wanted to say. She'd already said so much.

 _I love you._ The words lingered in the air, unspoken.

"I know." He stated simply before kissing her, long and hard, and with as much intensity as their conversation held. He picked her up and moved her towards the bed, where he made loved to her, over and over.

* * *

Manon brought up her sword in time to deflect Dorian's strike and was quick to turn, bringing her elbow up to his face. Dorian pushed her back with phantom hands but was too slow as she pivoted and brought the hilt of Wind-Cleaver down on his shoulder. He cried out as he stumbled back, bringing his unarmed hand to his shoulder, wincing.

" _Ouch_." He complained pointedly, eyeing her accusingly.

"You're too slow, princeling." Manon wasn't about to apologize but she did have the decency not to gloat. Dorian raised Damaris again and they began once more, steel meeting steel. Again, it didn't take long for Manon to take the upper hand, and Dorian was backed against the wall of the training room.

"Concede!" Manon demanded as she held her sword in front of her only inches away from Dorian's exposed neck.

"Adarlan concedes." He was gasping for air, clearly exhausted as they'd been going at it for the better half on an hour. Manon lowered her sword and couldn't resist the smirk which crossed her features. Sweat glistened Dorian's forehead, down his face and neck, to his partially opened shirt, making her nostril flare. His scent invaded her senses and Manon found herself gasping for air. She dropped her sword and hurriedly closed the gap between them, shoving Dorian hard against the wall before assaulting his lips with her own. Manon ignored as the few guards that had been posted outside the training room, as well as a couple of witches that had come watch their sparring session, suddenly found themselves with other things to do and quickly left through the door, the last making sure it closed. Manon hardly waited for the shuffle of feet leaving out the door before she tore open Dorian's shirt, buttons flying everywhere. He didn't complain as he found himself pinned against the wall with her hands _all_ over him.

No, her husband didn't complain. In fact, he returned the favor in kind, using his magic to tear apart her shirt, his lips never leaving hers.

Dorian wasn't sure what had come over his wife, but he wasn't complaining. She'd been edgy, snapping at him all day, even in front of others. He'd suggested they go train a bit, just to take the edge off as he hardly thought she wanted to be intimate with him as she seemed intent in ripping his head off. But apparently, she wanted to lay into him in more than one way today.

They'd been apart for a month, after having spent almost two months together after her return from Paranth…and wherever else she had gone to for her three-month absence. They didn't mean to spend so long apart, but business in Adarlan kept him busy and she needed to spend time in the Witch Kingdom. Finally, Dorian had been able to join her just the day before, but something seemed off about her demeanor. Now, they laid on the floor of the training room….naked…Manon's head laying between his shoulder and chest, his arm wrapped around her.

They'd just had intense sex. Against the wall. On the floor. She even bit him at some point and Dorian tried not to wince as he thought about the sharp pain that still lingered on his right forearm.

It's not that Dorian was afraid to ask her what was the matter…but he wanted to give her space, and time to say things when she felt like saying them. As always, he was afraid to push her, or the conversation that lingered in the air. He briefly wondered if this made him a coward, of just highly respectful of his wife.

Manon shifted, still restless it seems and then she suddenly sat up.

"You're really not going to ask?" She finally snapped, looking over her shoulder so she could stare at him, her golden eyes bright. Dorian sighted before getting up on his elbows, eyeing her briefly.

"What's the matter, Manon?" He asked, knowing this is what she meant.

"Nothing". She stated too quickly, turning away from him. He wanted to smile, but knew that'd be a costly mistake, especially if she caught him. Dorian ran a hand up and down her exposed back, parting her moon-white hair so he could press his fingers all the way from her neck to her lower back.

"You seem awfully worked up over nothing, witchling." Dorian kept his tone measured, controlled. He didn't want to upset her further but he did want to convey that he cared for whatever was going on.

"That's what's wrong, Dorian. _Nothing_."

Dorian's eyes gleamed with understanding then. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, pulling him on his lap so he could plant a kiss on the nook of her neck.

"It will happen, you will see." He pressed another kiss on her cheek.

"It might never happen." _I might be barren_. He read the words between the lines, the ones left unspoken.

"It's probably my fault. Maybe being possessed by a demon did something to me." Dorian offered, hoping to ease her guilt somehow. Manon turned to look at him then, her brows lightly furrowed and he could tell she wasn't convinced.

"It might just be you and me, witchling, no one else. Until our last breaths." He paused, finding her stare. "Is that really so bad?" He asked, eyeing her intently, hoping with all his might that it was enough for her.

Her features softened then, and she seemed to finally relax against him.

"No…it's not. It's really not." She conceded, her voice soft, almost a whisper.

Then she smiled at him and Dorian was sure he'd never seen anything more beautiful.

* * *

Manon had come to terms with it.

She rode Abraxos through the air, feeling as the wind fanned her face, enjoying as her wavryn banked hard and unexpectedly, making her smile. She patted his rough, leather hide, the smile never leaving her lips as they flew towards the horizon. That's when she made her peace with the fact that she might never have children, or that she wasn't going to have them now, just because that's what she wanted.

Dorian had been patient and kind. He held no resentment for it and seemed willing to forge a life with her regardless of heirs. It was strange, how he took everything in stride, how he allowed her freedoms she thought she'd have to give up with their marriage. He was cautious and detailed with her feelings, always accommodating them above all else.

 _"Manon…I would be more than happy for us to have a child. But just know that neither my happiness nor my love for you depend on it."_ His words from months ago echoed in her mind.

 _My love for you._ These four words echoed in her mind the most. They hunted her dreams, providing a comfort and warmth she didn't think she needed. She wanted a child because she wanted to feel that unyielding love and connection to another living being and she'd missed the fact that she already had that. With Dorian. With Abraxos. Although sometimes she wasn't sure of the order of whom she cared for the most.

This made her smile again, and Abraxos balked left, bringing them around with a sweeping flap of his wings so they could head home again.

* * *

Thanks for reading! I will make this a three part story, so the next chapter should be the last. I'd love to hear your thoughts! ;)


	3. Chapter 3

So...this will be four parts, now! As it happened, I wrote so much I had to divide this last chapter in two, so I hope you enjoy! For sure, the next chapter will be the last! :)

* * *

There was no one waiting for her on the upper balcony when she arrived at Rifthold. They weren't expecting her this time, not for another two days, but she could see as the guard on the balcony quickly called to someone and not five minutes later did Abraxo's favorite steward come to take care of him. Manon nodded to the young man before leaving her mount as she walked into the palace itself.

Chaol was first to greet her as she came down the flight of stairs, an inquisitive brow raised at her presence.

"Your Majesty. We weren't expecting you today."

Manon nodded to the Hand of the King in greeting, whom bowed his head respectfully.

"Would you like me to show you to Dorian? He's with his mother and brother in the grand hall. They've come to spend the spring in Rifthold." Chaol knew Manon avoided the regent queen as much as possible, especially as the woman insisted Manon needed to be more…queenly. In how she dressed and acted, and even in how she spoke. Manon had no interest in the woman's rhetoric's but had to admit she wasn't entirely unpleasant.

"No, I don't wish to interrupt." She paused, eyeing Chaol briefly before speaking up again.

"Actually, I wanted to see Yrene."

Chaol nodded and offered to escort her to his wife's office on the other side of the castle.

They stayed quiet for the most part, though Manon had the decency to inquire after their youngling.

"Perhaps I can bring him by later so you can spend sometime with him. He enjoys your presence greatly." The smile on Chaol's face was genuine and held warmth, and Manon nodded in agreement. She enjoyed the youngling's presence too.

Yrene was sitting at her desk when they walked in and there was nothing but happiness as her eyes caught Chaol before turning to her.

"You two are a funny pair." She soon stood up, coming around her desk to greet them both…a hug for Manon and a kiss for Chaol.

Manon couldn't help the whiff she caught from the woman, understanding exactly what it meant as she stepped back to eye them both.

"Another one?" Manon asked, and the healer's confused look made her regret her words.

"Another what?" Chaol asked, he also looked baffled, as thought they were speaking in riddles.

Then, they stared at each other, Yerene's eyes widening at the realization.

"Really?" Chaol asked, incredulous.

"It could be…" The healer smiled brightly and soon they were hugging and kissing with joy.

Manon made to turn for the door, to give them privacy to rejoice in the happy news, but she was soon pulled into a hug as well, much to her dismay.

"What's going on? A group hug, without me?" Dorian's voice interrupted them and he was soon pulled into the hug by Chaol. The king's eyes caught hers, gleaming with amusement and she offered a wink in turn as greeting. They finally broke apart from their hug and Chaol explained to Dorian that Yrene was apparently, with child again.

"I didn't mean to break the news, it just caught me by surprise." Manon apologized but Yrene was quick to say it wasn't necessary. She'd been suspecting for a few days now but it was too early for her to feel anything yet.

"How did you know?" Dorian asked as he placed an arm around her shoulder before planting a small kiss on her cheek. She arched a brow, as though saying 'do you really need to ask'. Dorian chuckled and led her away to give Chaol and Yrene some privacy, leaving them to their joy.

* * *

Dorian noted the change in his wife's mood almost immediately. There was a brightness to her, an ease about her that hadn't been there before. She'd held a rather long conversation with his mother, tolerated his brother without any short remarks and didn't insist they cut dinner short. Manon didn't even tense when his mother asked about grandchildren, fretting that she wasn't getting any younger and longed to hold them.

"We'll see." Manon had responded with a slight smirk on her face.

As they readied for bed, Dorian watched as she changed into one of his shirts, the ones she liked to use as a nightgown, and could sense the ease in which she did things, the lightness in her step. There was a glow about her, too, and he could swear her hair glistened as the light of the moon danced upon her features from the open windows. Dorian reached out with his magic, sending a wave of it towards his wife, probing to see what he could sense with it.

Manon turned towards the phantom breeze, her eyes closing as she breathed in his essence. It made his heart skip a beat.

Their eyes met as she opened hers and very slowly, she made her way towards the bed where Dorian was already sprawled on his back, his head propped on the many pillows available.

"Make love to me?" She asked, her voice low, sensual…commanding as her golden eyes held him in place, unable to breathe. Dorian gulped before sitting up and promptly scooped her into his arms. It was the fist time he'd ever heard her utter the word 'love' and he made sure she enjoyed and reveled in his love making, just so she would ask for it again.

* * *

Manon was wearing a dress.

It dipped low, very low, and where the dip ended, the skirts belled softly. The sleeves were long but flowed freely and the color of the gown a muted auburn lined with gold trimmings. She wore her weightless crown of stars, moon-white hair flowing as she stepped through the mirror…and was instantly transported.

Manon took a deep breath once on the other side, eyeing the still empty room. It was round and held six thrones, all spaced at equal distance from one another, all a step down from the witch mirrors hanging on the wall. It was an enclosed room with no doors or windows.

Assessing her own throne, the perfect rendering of the crown of stars edged on the wood peaking out from its high back, she traced a finger on the markings. She knew the one next to hers belonged to the King of Adarlan, his throne edged with his family crest and sigil. Next to his, the Lord of the North carvings stood out from the Queen of Terrasen's throne, followed by the markings of the Wendlyn crown, then the Whitethorn sigil of Doranelle and finally the Khagan's royal crest on the last throne, the one immediately to her right.

Everything was set and as it should be, Manon satisfied with the quality of the travel mirrors, surveying the room again before a few of the other High Kings and Queens of Erilea arrived. This was all part of their plans of maintaining peace, and Manon had worked intently for months with the Crochans and the Inronteeth to design the new witch mirrors. Mirrors that would be used for good and not destruction. _Made_ for peace.

The Queen of Terrasen was the second to arrive, followed by her consort. They weren't dressed in their formal regalia, but in comfortable pants, boots and a long sleeves shirt, the queen's a in Terrasen green, the Fae male in white.

"Your _Majesty_." Aelin's turquoise-gold eyes danced with amusement, presumably at seeing Manon in a dress.

A rare sighting indeed.

"I told you we needed to dress up." Aelin shot Rowan an I-told-you-so glance before surveying the room. She tried to hide it, but Manon could tell she was impressed. Rowan didn't bother feinting his approval and nodded deeply in both greeting and appreciation.

"Tonight, we celebrate a long-forgotten witch holiday tradition." Manon offered as her only explanation for her attire, making Aelin smirk as she took her seat on her designated throne, throwing a leg over the armrest of the chair.

"It's comfy…too bad you have to stand, Rowan." There was nothing but amusement in her eyes again and the look on the Fae's face suggested he'll make her pay for it…latter.

Next, the Khagan heir stepped through the witch mirror and almost stumbled down the step as his eyes had settled on Manon first. Sartaq offered a sheepish smile before bowing his head respectfully to the two monarchs in the room. Aelin rolled her eyes and mumble something along the lines of 'yes, yes, she's breathtaking and wearing a dress, blah, blah…'.

Before the heir of Antica could speak, the final guest stepped through the witch mirror and into the room. Dorian wore his formal royal regalia of deep blue, his raven-black hair combed back to accommodate his father's favorite crown on his head. As soon as their eyes met, Manon couldn't breathe, his sapphire eyes boring into her with such intensity she felt pinned in place.

"Hello witchling." The King of Adarlan spoke as though no one else existed.

* * *

Dorian had to remind himself they were not alone in the room and peal his eyes away from his wife.

Wearing a dress.

It made his blood boil, but he managed to turn to Aelin and Rowan, offering them a smile and bow before doing the same to Sartaq.

"How's Faliq?" He was quick to ask after his one-time Captain of the Guards.

"She's doing great. Won't admit she likes this whole business of being the future Empress." He offered a big smile, his eyes lighting up as he spoke of his wife. Dorian smirked but it was Aelin who spoke up first.

"Wait until she starts redecorating." Sartaq chuckled then and took a seat on his throne as though trying it out for comfort. Manon remained standing and only sat once Dorian did the same.

"Well, it works. The witch mirrors work." Dorian stated after some time in silence, his eyes turning to Manon, sitting on the throne next to him. He knew she'd been working hard with Glennis and Petrah to accomplish this feat, and he was very proud of the end result.

"Good. We can start convening for our meetings. This should make communication amongst our kingdoms at lot easier and efficient." Rowan offered, still standing next to Aelin's throne, poised and tall, despite the casual company.

"We'll need more chairs." Sartaq pointed out, and Dorian knew he wasn't referring just for Rowan. They would all be bringing others with them for meetings, Dorian himself planned to bring Chaol sometimes as well.

"Will there be a place in this council for Eyllwe and for the Western Wastes?" Aelin asked, her leg still propped over the chair of her throne.

"The king and queen of Eyllwe have given me their blessing to speak for them and to look after their kingdom's best interest." Dorian informed the small group before nodding to Manon.

"Manon speaks for the Wates. All of the Wastes." He stated but didn't elaborate.

"Ansel and Ilias agreed to it." Manon offered, her eyes locking with Aelin's. The queen of Terrasen seemed to considered this before nodding once in agreement.

"Then it is settled. We will hold our first official meeting next month." Aelin's features turned sharper then as she sat up on her throne, very much like a queen.

"It is indeed a better world where all the kingdoms can come together and discuss the best path forward." Manon must have read something on Aelin's features as she offered this, something Dorian might have missed. The two queen locked eyes and a ghost of a smile appeared on both their lips.

"Indeed." Was Aelin's only response.

"How's Yrene and her newborn?" Sartaq interrupted after sometime before getting up from his throne and walking towards the mirror which would take him back to his palace in Antica.

"She's doing great. Already fast at work with her classes." Dorian could only shrug. Chaol, Manon and himself all insisted the healer take more time off but she insisted she needed to go back to work not two months after their second son was born.

"She's given us an excuse to open the royal nursery. With her two sons and now Elide's daughter arriving soon, our royal nurses will be plenty occupied." Dorian mused with amusement. Elide was due to arrive in a weeks' time to begin treatment on her leg. Of course, Lorcan and little Asterin would be coming with her and stay at the palace for at least two months while Yrene treated Elide and she recuperated from the healing procedure.

"Little Asterin lives up to her namesake." Rowan offered, his face a bit blanched as he stated this. Manon smirked, arching a brow, but they've heard the stories of the demon-toddler. Apparently, little Asterin Sorrel had given Rowan such as scare, the Fae male went pale just with the reminder.

"Urgh…mortals…all these babies…breeding like rabbits…" Aelin said this in complaint as she stood as well, and Dorian couldn't help the pang in his chest. The hinted truth of the two immortal women in the room.

"Yrene can give you a special tea, you know." Manon offered to Aelin, and the glances they shared between them was answer enough for them. Aelin smiled first, then Manon and soon they were both chuckling.

Dorian glanced at Sartaq and Rowan, but neither of them seemed to understand what went on between the two women, and he was not about to ask.

"Well, we should get back. Manon and I need to attend the witch festival tonight."

They smiled at each other and said their goodbyes, Sartaq leaving first, followed by Aelin and Rowan and then Dorian took Manon's hands in his before they both stepped over the witch mirror together, instantly transported to the Witch Kingdom.

They emerged in an empty room he recognized to be Manon's private parlor, and Dorian wasted no time in turning towards his wife and devouring her lips with his own. His hand found the nape of her neck, tilting her head slightly back so he could have better access to her lips and tongue…

He pulled away after an eternity, but the desire still coursed ardently through his entire being. And what he wanted to say, what he opened his mouth to say, to finally voice… true and loud. But Dorian caught himself, his lips halting just as he was about to whisper the words and grazed her lips softy instead.

* * *

Manon was still debating whether to break the news to him before or after the festival, but as he paused to kiss her so thoroughly, she realized the moment had come.

Aelin had realized Manon's secret just as she'd realized hers. They've both kept apart from the other, not daring to come close or else they might each perceive, or smell rather, the other's condition. But their eyes had met and they each understood the other's precaution. Yes, they were both with child; no, they wouldn't be announcing it to the world yet. It was too soon…

But she needed to tell Dorian. _Wanted_ to tell Dorian from the second she saw him. He'd never looked more beautiful to her…his sapphire eyes nearly undoing her right there and then, in front of the others inside the newly created council chamber. And when he kissed her just now, well, she knew the moment was right. Her crown of stars glowed in the dimness of the room, and yet his eyes had never shone so brightly before.

He made to speak but seemed to lose his words again, so he simply kissed her, brushing his lips over hers softly and tenderly.

"Say it." Manon didn't try to hide the command in her voice.

Dorian arched a quizzical brow, as though unsure what she meant.

"Say it. Be done with it." Manon commanded again, as they were so close, she had to angle her head up to meet his stare.

"I'm very happy." He finally offered, but she knew that's not what he meant to say.

"You think I would hide from you…from your feelings? You think I'm not strong enough to know them?" Manon questioned him, arching a fine brow, egging him to speak his truth. His features changed and she could see the sorrow in his eyes. It brought a pang to her chest, to think she might have hurt him somehow. It was not what she intended…she simply wanted it _out_. No more secrets…no more pretending. No more walking on eggshells, tiptoeing around the fact that he'd been possessed by a demon she'd driven away because she walked with darkness herself. Or the fact that her blood ran blue and his red. Or that he wouldn't tell her precisely how he felt in fear she might walk away all together.

Fine, perhaps she should go first.

"I didn't understand what it was…what it meant. Why my heart raced with your presence…from the first moment I met you. It was all foreign to me. The fear I felt when you revealed your plans to go to Morath…I'd never felt that before. Even when I rallied the Crochans and we arrived at Orynth with not a second to spare….my thoughts were with you." Not to mention the alliance she had proposed just to keep him from going…

Manon paused and took a moment to look into his eyes and how the light seemed to return to them.

"What does it mean, princeling?"

Dorian's throat bobbed and he gently placed a hand on her cheek, caressing her skin with his knuckles.

"It means you couldn't resist my charm." She knew he said this because he was being careful, perhaps of hoping too much, of saying too much.

"I will not abandon you…I will not turn away." Manon offered, begging him with her eyes.

"You will not think me as dull as a Crochan for admitting my feelings?" He asked, humor still lingering in his voice though his eyes betrayed his fears. That she'd be frightened by his feelings for her…that she'd turn away from them. Perhaps not today, but years from now…

"I will not." She answered simply but it felt more like a promise. He nodded and took her hands in his, interwinding their fingers.

"Manon, I love you. I have since the night I left for Morath, perhaps even before then. But I meant what I said…I don't want you to feel shackled to me…our crowns are burden enough." And he would know…because Dorian was her equal in all the ways that mattered. In strength, in title and even in knowing what being shackled meant…how being a prisoner almost destroyed him so thoroughly…and he loved her so much he didn't want her to ever feel remotely the same.

"Your love… _our_ love….is not imprisonment, Dorian. It is… _freeing_." There, it was said. Or as close as she could come to saying it. There was no other way for her to explain it. Similar to her love for Abraxos, it felt seamless to love the King of Adarlan.

"I will not be afraid of what we have…of what we share. Of what…" She paused to unwind their hands just so she could take one of his and place it flat over her belly "…of what is growing within me now." Her eyes lifted to his again, catching the rim of silver in his eyes.

Manon wasn't sure if Dorian was breathing…until she felt the warmth of his raw magic reach out to her, to the life growing in her womb. She'd never felt something so wonderful, so warm and weightless, as though Dorian's magic and the life inside her pulsed to each other…in conversation.

Dorian smiled, chuckled in wonderment as his tears finally shed down his cheek. He wiped them away before he pulled her into a warm embrace, the joy and happiness still pouring from him to her.

Manon smiled then laughed as he did, as he picked her up and spun her around. It was everything she despised of the human and Crochan behavior…cheesy, romantic, warm…

And yet, it felt right. And even as Manon thought of the Thirteen, and the void they left in her heart, for once it did not break her. Their memory only brought a brighter smile and she could have sworn twelve distinct laughs echoed in her mind, in the air, and in her soul.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! I promise the next chapter is the last one. Please R&R!


	4. Chapter 4

As promised, this is the last chapter. Of course, I don't own these characters nor this story and once again, this has spoilers for those who have not read the last ToG book, KoA. Will Manon and Dorian get their happily ever after? I hope you enjoy my take on it!

* * *

The palace was in a constant thrumming of feet going around with purpose. There were the healers taking classes, the general palace busybodies, emissaries, witches and servants…all of them seemed to have a greater purpose today. It was with this same sense of urgency that Dorian strolled down the corridor, Chaol but a step behind him as he reached the large set of doors flanked by both a palace guard and Petrah Blueblood.

"Glennis?" Dorian asked as he eyed Petrah.

"Already inside with Yrene." She was quick to answer as the guard opened the door to let him through. Chaol followed behind him but didn't proceed to the inner bedroom itself, though the door was currently opened and he could probably see the happenings just fine from there.

Manon was not in bed as he would have expected, she was actually standing, pacing back and forth as Elide and Glennis both sat on the bed, watching her. Yrene was busy inspecting all the materials she would need and another healer, a young girl barely in her late teens, stood back a bit blanched as she stared at the High Queen of the Witch Kingdom.

Dorian arched a brow in question and it was Glennis who answered.

"Her Majesty doesn't feel like laying down just yet." She explained, giving Manon a pointed look. Manon shot her great-grandmother a stare that almost had the young apprentice running for the door and Dorian couldn't help as he chuckled.

"I'm sure if pacing was a bad idea, Yrene would have ordered her to bed." He stated simply as he took off his vest and threw it over an empty chair before making himself comfortable on the bed, eyeing as his wife went back and forth the entire length of the room.

"Are all of you going to be here the entire time?" Manon snapped before pausing briefly, clearly experiencing a contraction, her hands gripping the back of the chair Dorian had used for his vest. He'd come directly from a meeting as soon as he received word that his wife was in labor, and didn't bother changing into anything more comfortable. Yrene had explained the birthing process could take hours, days even, especially as Manon had opted not to undergo the procedure Yrene had already perform on two Ironteeth with success.

Manon wanted to feel the labor pains…she wanted to experience motherhood in all its messy glory.

"Have you finally decided on a boys name?" Elide asked, her dark hair falling to the side as she asked Dorian, opting to direct her question to him instead.

"What for? Ironteeth only have girls." Manon answered before Dorian could open his mouth and had to resist the urge to smirk.

"You're only half Ironteeth, Manon. Your father was a Crochan prince and you could very well be carrying a boy." Elide pointed out…nothing Dorian hadn't done himself before, but he knew Manon was having none of it. She was hell bent on having a girl and there was no use in arguing about it now…they would all know the gender of the baby soon enough.

"Well, I think you've always carried very low, with a very pointed belly, always complaining of back pains…I think it's a boy." Elide insisted and Manon's response was to snap her iron teeth in place.

Elide didn't look overly impressed with Manon's response but she did give Dorian a sympathetic look before getting up and heading towards the door.

"I'm going to go check up on Asterin." She announced before leaving and didn't bother to stay clear of Manon and her deathly bite…the Lady knowing there was really no bite to Manon's bark. Dorian could see Chaol going with Elide out the door, neither of them sporting a hint of a limp, though he knew the former might be in a wheel chair before the night was done, especially as Yrene would do everything in her powers to ensure a successful birth for Manon's and Dorian's child. Petrah Blueblood fell into step behind them, not having gone further than the anteroom as well.

Glennis sighed heavily before getting up and announcing she was going to go brew an old family recipe taught to her by her own great-grandmother. She gave Dorian a soft smile before leaving as well. He knew they meant to give them some privacy and Yrene didn't even bother to offer up an excuse as she left out the door and stated she'd be back soon, taking the novice with her.

Manon did not stop her pacing though, and simply paused as a wave of pain washed through her, resuming as soon as it faded. She wore a white nightgown of sorts, though it was long and loose and did nothing for her figure. But it did look comfortable and she didn't seem to mind wearing it…

She'd been marvelous throughout her pregnancy, her growing belly never reaching the exaggerated hugeness Yrene held for her two pregnancies, especially in her last months of child bearing. Manon didn't wobble at any point, not even now as her strides were precise. And yet…there was a vulnerability to her as her brows furrowed just so, as she held her lower belly as though to ease the burden of its weight.

"Manon." Dorian simply said her name and she paused, her bright golden eyes finding his. She was an apex predator…a force of nature…a goddess of death…but she halted as he said her name. Because she was also _his,_ just as he was hers.

"Come sit next to me. I want to enjoy our last moment together of just you and me." His tone remained light and easy, a counterweight to her current dark mood. He knew what it was, recognized it for what it meant.

Manon was nervous, afraid even. But she would never allow herself to feel vulnerable in front of others and so she paced and tried to hide the pain. Dorian scoot to the side to allow her space and she finally settled next to him. He used the opportunity to run a soothing hand over her belly, using his raw magic to ebb some of the pain away. Manon seemed to relax instantly, her head resting on the many pillows available.

Dorian kissed her cheek until she turned to face him so he could kiss her lips and once they pulled apart, he could truly see the worry in her eyes.

"Everything will be fine. You will be fine, and our baby will be perfect." He left no room for argument in his statement as he used an authoritarian tone, the one he used as king when he wanted things done with no arguments.

Manon nodded once.

"Tell me something." She demanded more than asked, making him smile despite her serious tone. She wanted to be distracted, so Dorian took a moment to think of things to tell her. Or admit.

"When you fought the three Matron's…that was breathtaking. I'd never seen anyone fight like you did, move like you did….it was incredible to watch. And I wanted your grandmother to suffer…I dreamt of learning how to grow iron nails just so I could tear her apart and return the favor in kind." It was a bit grim, but Manon smirked in approval.

"I would have liked to see that." She meant it, too.

"When we were on Rolfe's boat, and you were still a prisoner and I sought you out…I didn't know if I wanted you to like me or kill me."

This made Manon arch a brow, her hand lightly pressing over his as Dorian continued to lightly touch her with his healing magic.

"Remember Elide's wedding? When I saw you in that bridesmaid dress…I accidently knocked over a decorative vase with my magic. I then moved away and pretended it wasn't me."

This last revelation finally had her snorting a laugh before tensing up again as a wave of pain hit her. She took a couple of deep breaths before relaxing somewhat again.

"When you went to find me on Rolfe's boat, that fist time we…" She trailed off, arching a brow in reference. "…that was the first time I'd ever allowed a man atop of me like that."

Dorian smirked before purring in her ear, "I've also been the best you've ever had."

"Why do you think I married you?" She asked with a stone-cold tone, making him chuckle before he planted another kiss on her cheek.

"I love you, Manon Blackbeak." The words escaped him without a thought and he was relieved no one else was in the room with them. Manon tensed as another contraction took hold of her, lasting longer than any of the others, making her sit up with the pain, sweat already coating her forehead.

"You know I will hate you by the time this is over…" She managed to say between gulps of breaths. "And that is not my name, not anymore." He could sense the pain she felt as she winced through the words, and he couldn't stand it.

Dorian scooped Manon so she was laying against him, fully sitting between his legs and using him as a backrest as he placed both of his hands around her belly, sending his healing magic to sooth her. She instantly relaxed against him, leaning her head back so it rests on his shoulder.

"My apologies, your Majesty, High Queen of the Witch Kingdome and Queen Consort to Adarlan." He could feel Manon frowning as he teased her and pressed his forehead against the side of her face, feeling overwhelmed with the sudden realization that his wife was in labor.

"I love you, Manon Blackbeak Crochan Havilliard." There, he said the words again, with her full name…the one she insisted on as she wanted her last names in the order in which she obtained them, regardless of tradition or protocol.

Manon turned to look up at him, so her bright golden eyes could look into his. Her face was peaceful, calm….and there was so much clarity in them.

"If I die in childbirth…" She paused, and Dorian's breath caught, angry with her for even saying such a thing. She stopped him from speaking with a finger over his lips.

"…make sure to tell Abraxos that I love him so much…"

Dorian could feel as her belly tensed as another contraction coursed through her, but she didn't wince, not as she looked into his eyes.

"…and tell him I'm sorry that I don't love him most."

Her words echoed within him, stunning him for a moment, his throat bobbing up and down before he could nod in agreement and understanding.

Manon loved him most.

As if on cue, Yrene, Glennis and Elide all came in again, with the young novice and a third healer, one more experienced. Dorian kissed Manon's cheek quickly, expecting to be ordered out of the bed soon, but Yrene smiled warmly to him and didn't insist he move. Glennis gave Manon the drink she'd prepared, which she took all of two sips from before handing it back, making a face.

"I'm going to check you now." Yrene explained as she lifted Manon's white gown over her bent knees and used her hands to gauge how far along his wife had come in the birthing process. Yrene arched a brow, her only indication of the surprise she most likely felt as she said her next words.

"It's time."

* * *

"Push, push, push!" Yrene ordered again as Manon held her breath to bear down again. She'd been pushing for almost three hours straight now and still the babe was not out of her yet. At least pushing felt better than simply pacing around or laying in bed feeling the contractions. Pushing required action from her part, and despite her growing exhaustion, Manon pushed…

Her hair had fallen from the braid Elide had tied for her just as it all began, sticking to her sweat covered forehead and neck as she leaned forward.

"You're crowning!" Yrene exclaimed with excitement, and Manon could feel as Dorian smiled from behind her, his hands still holding her sides or supporting her back every time she leaned forward to push. His wicket, magical hands…which held her now and soothed her pain. He hasn't moved since active labor began and if he was uncomfortable in the least, he didn't show it.

"One last big push, Manon. Give it everything you've got." Yrene said as her assistants hurried with more clean linen and strange looking equipment Manon didn't care to know its purpose.

"When you feel the contraction start, you count to three and then push." Yrene explained with a nod, eyes locking with hers as her new contraction began.

"One, two, three…" Dorian counted with her and then Manon went for it.

One last push.

One last, agonizing push…with everything Manon had left.

Manon fell back against Dorian as soon as the baby was out, collapsing against him, exhausted. Glennis was quick to run a wet towel over her forehead and Elide made her drink some liquid to keep hydrated, but all Manon wanted was to close her eyes and rest.

She fought the urge to close her eyes and instead rolled her head so she could look towards the baby, silver lining her eyes as she heard the piercing cry of her newborn. Dorian didn't let go of her, kissing her cheek and the back of her head, his hands still soothing her, his magic still lightly flowing through her. He stiffened suddenly, his hands lightly pressing on her stomach…

She knew he wanted to say something, but he was interrupted as Yrene walked towards them, baby in hand, now gently swaddled in a soft baby blanket. She set the baby down in her arms so both Manon and Dorian could see for themselves. The baby had silky, raven dark hair…

"We have a boy." Dorian breathed as the blanket fell away to reveal the baby's sex.

Manon had never seen anything more beautiful in her entire life.

She didn't have time to say as much as a flash of pain reverberated through her entire being, and if it wasn't for Dorian's quick action, she would have dropped their son, as he held on to both of them long enough for Glennis to take the baby as Manon leaned forward in pain.

"I think there's another one coming." Dorian spoke, but Manon couldn't even begin to comprehend what his words meant as a flash of pain shot through her and her world quite literally went dark.

* * *

It was dark and there was a heavy fog which suddenly swirled, curling in misty tendrils as light all the sudden flooded her vision. When the flash of light disappeared, Asterin stood there with a smile on her face, still half covered by the heavy fog. Her hair was down and she wore a lovely, simple gown.

"You did it…you brought us home." Her cousin….her _sister_ ….said with joy dancing in her eyes.

"No. You, the Thirteen…you brought us home." Manon clarified, her eyes never leaving Asterin's lovely face. Suddenly, the fog cleared enough for Manon to see she held the hand of a child and then a man appeared from behind her, placing a loving hand on her shoulder.

"You found your hunter." Manon whispered, and she knew there were tears in her eyes.

The light was bright again and the rest of the Thirteen appeared, all smiling…all lovely, beautiful…ethereal.

"I miss you all so much." Manon chocked on her words as her eyes roamed over Sorrel, Vesta…all of them.

"We've never left you, Manon. We will always be with you and someday, we'll all be together again. But not today…."

Suddenly, a new figure came out of the fog…her half sister Rhiannon and behind her stood a man she'd never seen before but somehow recognized. Her father. And then her mother appeared, holding her father's hand. They all smiled to her, and she could see the pride in their eyes.

" _Live_ , Manon." Asterin words were like a whisper in the wind. And soon, the thick fog consumed her, blinding her as she felt her weightless body fall…down…down….

 _Live, Manon_.

 _Breath, Manon._

 _"Stay with me, witchling."_

* * *

"Stay with me, witchling." Dorian commanded his wife as his healing magic flowed desperately through her. Manon's eyes fluttered open and Dorian chocked on his sob as recognition flooded back to her pale face.

"Manon, I need you to push one last time. One last, big push." Yrene didn't waste any time in saying, having already commanded Glennis and Elide to grab one of Manon's legs to push them up. Dorian nodded to Yrene as he felt the muscles of her belly contract.

"Bear down, Manon!"

Dorian could feel her give everything she had left, every reservoir of energy down to its last keg. Glennis and Elide pushing her legs up, Dorian supporting her back, her head….Abraxo's roar could be heard, his wings booming as he flew by, calling to Manon to make sure she knew he was also there with her.

Manon crunched forward with one agonizing and piercing scream, so excruciating that Dorian could feel as the entire palace…as of all of Rifthold…halted in its wake.

Then… _silence._

And then came the most precious and piercing cry he'd ever heard. A shriek so loud…so commanding…as if to say, _I am here_.

A cry of life anew…

The cry of his daughter.

* * *

Manon knew she dreamt but there was no fog, no familiar faces, just slumber until her groggy mind started waking and she could feel others in the room with her.

Slowly, she opened her eyes to find sapphire blue eyes staring back at her as she lay on her side, her head propped on a soft pillow. They were back in their own bedroom, she realized, as she recognized the all too familiar lighting of the room.

Dorian's eyes drifted to the middle of the bed, and Manon followed his gaze to the two small bundles laying right next to each other, sleeping soundlessly.

Manon's eyes shot back up to Dorian's as his hand reached a cross the bed to caress her cheek, his thumb running over her lips. Eyes clear as day stared back at her, unwavering and full of pride and joy and love.

"Two." Manon managed to say despite her hoarse throat.

"Two." Dorian repeated, a small smirk grazing his lips.

"Overachiever." He said in a teasing tone before sitting up and pouring her some water. Manon sat up slowly, feeling as her entire body ached, and found her great-grandmother instantly besides her, helping her by rearranging the pillows. Glennis smiled before placing a warm hand on her cheek in a tender touch.

"You are extraordinary, Manon." Her words were spoken so softly, Manon wasn't sure she'd truly heard them. There was pride in her eyes as her soft eyes moved from the sleeping witchlings, to Dorian and then back to her again.

"Your father would be so proud." There was only joy in her eyes as Glennis said this before she excused herself. She would be going with Petrah to the Witch Kingdom to announce the twin's birth.

Elide and Yrene came in the room next to check up on her just as one of the witchlings, the boy, awoke. He began to cry and Elide helped to latch him on to her breast…something so foreign and strange to Manon she almost called for a nurse maid.

"The first milk needs to come from the mother. It's important for the child's health." Yrene explained and didn't leave until she was satisfied with the babe's feeding, Elide going with her. Not one moment after the boy was done feeding did their daughter wake up with a wailing cry. Dorian took their boy so she could hold their girl to her breast, wincing as she latched on to her.

As unmoored as Manon could be on any given day, she found herself full of feelings. So many feelings, she wasn't sure how to deal with them or what to say, especially as she watched her daughter feed from her breast. She had a tuff of white hair on her small head, so short she almost looked bald. Unlike her brother, who's raven black hair was thick and covered his entire small head.

"I gave birth to _us_." Manon couldn't help murmuring, provoking a barked laugh from Dorian.

"I was thinking the same thing." He smiled widely despite the dark circles under his eyes. He was probably as exhausted as she felt, and yet knew he had the same amount of adrenaline coursing through his veins as she did.

Dorian scooted closer to her so he could hold their son closer to his sister.

"I don't know of any Ironteeth who'd ever given birth to a boy and a girl." Manon said in what she knew was shock. How did this happen? How did she not notice she was carrying two witchlings?

"Yrene said the same thing. She believes you carried little Manon closer to your lower back with little Dorian taking up most of the space. Your daughter was not happy about it when she was born." Dorian made light of it, but she could see the worried he still carried in his eyes.

"I fainted…"

"I think it was more than that. You… _left_. Briefly, but I could feel you slipping away." His features turned angry then, a blunt sort of rage present in his eyes unlike she hadn't seen in a very long time. Since their time in the Crochan camp, right before he left for Morath.

"You're not allowed to leave me, witchling." The maleness in his tone send a shiver down her spine and Manon couldn't help nodding in agreement, his sapphire eyes softening the moment she does.

"I mean…there's _two_ of them." His tone turned lighter as he said this, as he explained himself. What was he supposed to do without her? With two babies no less…

"We need to name them." Manon murmured as she looked down at the small witchling suckling from her. She knew her name in that precise moment.

"Rhiannon."

Dorian smiled in agreement, running a gentle finger over her small cheek.

"For your half sister." He stated, knowing fully well it was indeed for her half sister and not the last Crochan Queen.

"Could I suggest a middle name?" He asked, his eyes still on their small girl as Manon nodded.

"Rhiannon Kaltain."

For the woman whom changed both of their lives. For the woman who saved her, the Thirteen and Elide from Morath, the woman who turned the tide in the war. The woman who'd shown Dorian the way…

Manon nodded in agreement. They could do no less than honor her memory through their child.

"And this handsome fellow?" He asked as he beheld his sleeping son, a smile grazing his face.

"Dorian." Manon stated, and she knew it took Dorian a couple of seconds to realize she wasn't calling his name.

* * *

"Dorian." He'd looked to her instinctively not realizing what she meant until a couple of seconds later. He wanted to protest, especially as he looked back down to his sleeping son. He had his hair, his nose…and he'd seen the blue of his eyes earlier as he'd sleepily opened them. He could carry his name…and his father's name.

"What about Tristan? Like your father." He offered in turn.

"What about Dorian? Like his father and his father's father."

"We could name him Gavin, too." Dorian offered another name which meant something to him. Manon took a deep breath as she detached Rhiannon from her breast and held her to her chest, lightly patting her back, burping her.

"You can add which ever name you prefer, but his name is Dorian." Manon insisted with that quiet anger he knew not to argue against. He smirked, knowing he wasn't going to win this one…and for whatever reason, she wanted their son to hold his name. His father's name.

"Gavin Dorian Tristan Havilliard it is."

"What about just Dorian Tristan Blackbeak-Crochan Havilliard."

Dorian chuckled at the ridiculously long name but then frowned as he realized she'd dropped the name Gavin.

"I like Gavin Dorian Tristan. It's not unheard of for royalty to have three names." He countered.

"Plus, three last names?" She questioned, arching a fine brow.

"Hmmm." She had a point, he supposed.

"Shouldn't we give Rhiannon another name, then?"

"Rhiannon Kaltain Lothian." Dorian was quick to respond as Manon pointed out their daughters missing name, smiling widely at how ridiculous they were being. He didn't care, though, as it was perfect to him. Manon clearly agreed, as evident in her next words.

"We are being ridiculous. Would it be practical for them to have so many names?"

"We are the King and Queen of two kingdoms…we can do whatever we please and give our children however many names we want." He assured her as their eyes met. Her bright, golden eyes lingered on his for a moment, and he was reminded of how Manon looked when she petted Abraxos…

Love. That was love shining in her eyes.

"Perhaps we only give them one last name." She offered.

"His Highness, Prince Gavin Dorian Tristan Havilliard and Her Highness, Princess Rhiannon Kaltain Lothian Havilliard." Dorian left out Manon's last names in teasing, but she looked to consider the possibility.

"That would be their name here. In the Witch Kingdom, Princess Rhiannon Kaltain Lothian Blackbeak, heir to the Ironteeth Clan and Prince Dorian Tristan Gavin Crochan, heir to the Crochan Clan."

"I thought I got the boy and you got the girl?" Dorian teased before planting a kiss on her cheek, unable to help himself. She must be exhausted, and needed to rest, especially as the babies slept.

"Perhaps we shouldn't choose for them." Manon suggested, maybe realizing now that they were born, that their children deserved to have the right to choose their own fates.

"I agree, witchling."

Their eyes locked again and he couldn't help the wicket smile that took over him.

"I can't wait for you to…recuperate." Because even in their exhaustion and the intensity of the moment, he wanted to burry himself inside of her, and make love to her if only to show her how happy he felt. And how grateful he was to the gods to have her and their new family.

Manon arched an unimpressed brow and even shuttered at the thought, making Dorian chuckle. Clearly, coupling was the last thing on her mind right now.

"We'll need another travel mirror. A larger one, so we can go back and forth…"

Her eyes danced around the room, as though she'd just realized how the dynamics of having two kingdoms changed with the arrival of their children.

"Don't worry about any of that, Manon. Not now. In fact, you need to rest." He moved out of the bed with their son, setting him down gently on a crib already available before taking their daughter from Manon's arm and setting her down next to her brother. He then joined Manon on their bed, pulling her close to him as he wrapped an arm around her significantly smaller belly.

Manon didn't complain though he could sense her eyes still lingering on the crib just out of reach from her, to the two small babies sleeping there.

"Wait until Abraxos meets them." She said sleepily, her eyes becoming heavier with each blink. Dorian nuzzled her neck, breathing in the essence of her. Not a minute later, she was asleep, her breathing even and deep, her face still slightly pale but breathtakingly beautiful.

Dorian smiled as he watched her sleep…the woman who'd saved him, driving away his demons in a figurative _and_ literal sense. He closed his eyes and was asleep soon after, a smile still on his face.

* * *

Chaol stared at the piece of paper in his hand and arched a brow in question. Dorian simply nodded to him once, as though to confirm it was true. The Hand of the King did not faulter as he turned and stepped out into the large balcony overlooking the gathered crowed below.

"Hear ye, hear ye! Good people of Erilea, citizens of Adarlan and the Wastes. I am proud to present to you…" He paused as Dorian stepped forward, wearing his official crown and holding the two-day old baby in his arms.

"…His Highness, Dorian Tristan Gavin, Prince of Adarlan and the Witch Kingdom, and…" He paused as Manon stepped forward, wearing her crown of stars. "…Her Highness, Rhiannon Kaltain Lothian, Princess of Adarlan and the Witch Kingdoms."

The crowed below erupted in cheers and applause, and they could all hear the music and celebration of the entire kingdom, as wyverns and witch brooms flew overhead, releasing a rain of petals down below, so it looked to be snowing white flowers.

Chaol stepped back to allow for the King and Queen to stand front and center, their small children cradled in both their arms. Yrene soon joined next to him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.

"Who would have thought…" Chaol couldn't help murmuring out loud.

For five years ago, if someone would have asked him what he thought the future held for his best friend…he wouldn't have pictured Dorian stepping onto a balcony, presenting his children, standing next to his wife-a witch!-…as King of Adarlan. As a true king…not just in title but in action. And he wasn't just surviving anymore…Dorian was thriving, just like his kingdom was. Just like the Waste and Terrasen and the rest of Erilea.

"I saw it coming." Yrene interrupted his thoughts, answering the question he didn't think she'd heard. Yrene had indeed seen it coming, had suggested they simply marry in the first place. Chaol smiled down at his wife smiling before kissing her deeply.

* * *

Glennis stood behind, watching from within the room itself as her great-granddaughter and her mate presented their children to the world. There were no words to express the warmth which ran through her then. No singular word that could describe the happiness or the feeling at witnessing what she'd been waiting for her entire immortal life.

A new beginning for all witches…a better world for all.

Glennis smiled as a soft wind caressed her face then; the winds of change.

* * *

Abraxos soared high above the castle, calling to the wind as his mighty wings boomed across the sky. He performed maneuver after maneuver, in happiness and remembrance. For his mistress as she stood next to her mate and presented her cubs; for his own lost mate, whom he could still feel caress his soul as he flew across the new sky.

Abraxos reveled in the falling petals and roared in happiness, knowing they were _all_ home.

* * *

Thank you For reading! I hope you enjoyed! I love Manorian and they need a happy ending and more fanfiction about them! :)


End file.
